Driving Doctor Turner
by MyLittleYellowBird
Summary: Bold Shelagh wants to learn how to drive, but Patrick's not so sure about it (he *does* love that car!). See how Shelagh plus one determined nun overrule the poor doctors objections. Warning: may include Timothy sass, eye-sex and grumpy nun-isms.
1. Chapter 1

Shelagh was a smart lady. It didn't take her long into her marriage to realize that there were certain times when she should never bring up a difficult subject with her husband. After a long day, perhaps, or when patients (or Timothy) were being particularly difficult. Tonight was a good time, she reasoned. A relaxing day with the family, his favorite dinner, and bouncy time with Angela had put him in a very convivial frame of mind.

"Patrick, there's something I'd like to do, but I'll need your help." She settled down next to him on the sofa. Angela cooed and reached for her mother.

"Hmm?" Patrick asked, trying to distract his daughter, unwilling to share.

Shelagh moved away from the couch, out of the baby's eye line. Patrick smiled his thanks. "Of course, Shelagh. Anything I can do." He looked panicked for a moment. "It's not a part in the choir, is it?"

"No, Patrick, it's not a part in the choir. I know you're too busy to commit to the Chorale Society. This is just a few hours of your time, and just with me."

"I like the sound of that," his grin widened.

"I _am_ in the room, Dad," Timothy complained from the floor.

Shelagh ignored their banter and decided to jump right in. "Patrick, I've been thinking that I should learn how to drive."

"Drive? My car? Why on earth would you want to do that? I can take you anywhere you need to go." His voice was a little high.

"Yes, you're very helpful. But I'd like to be a bit more independent, sometimes. And I think it would be a good skill to have. Just say you broke your leg, and couldn't drive to your patients? I could help. Or if you're tired after a long day and Timothy needs to get to a meeting at school in the evening? I could take that off your hands, dear." She smiled at him helpfully.

Timothy joined in. "None of the mums I know can drive, Mum. Do you think you even can?"

Instantly both males knew a strategic error had occurred. "Why?" Shelagh demanded. "Because a woman can't operate a machine? Just who do you think repaired the boiler last week? And which one of you fixed the leak in the bathroom sink? Me! Of course women can drive, little chauvinist. The Queen can drive. And repair an engine."

Patrick knew he was defeated. "All right, Shelagh. I'll teach you to drive."

Shelagh beamed. "You won't be sorry, Patrick. You'll see!"

"I'm rather busy for the next few weeks, though. It will probably have to wait a bit. Later in the spring, perhaps," he stalled.

"That will be fine, then." Angela began to fuss for her mother, and Patrick gave her up. "This little miss needs her bath, Patrick. I'll get things ready for you." Shelagh stepped out of the room.

"I don't know, Dad. Mum driving?" Timothy was not convinced.

Patrick grunted. "Thanks for your support, son." He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. " I will say this, and listen carefully if you ever plan to get married one day. When a man's wife is happy, everyone is happy. Wiser words have never been spoken."

"Whatever you say, Dad. All I know is that she has you completely wrapped around her little finger."

"Me?" Patrick cried. "I'm not the one playing piano for the choir!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Sister, I was hoping to ask a favor of you," Shelagh said as she organized the newest shipment of medical supplies in the Community Center kitchen.

"Aha! So that's why you brought this charming little scrap of bait today. To bribe me?" Sister Evangelina grumbled. The contradiction of her words with her expression, not to mention the silly singsong voice she was using as she cuddled Baby Angela Turner, was quite comical. Shelagh's daughter had quickly become the darling of the nuns, and for all her gruff exterior, Sister Evangelina was just as susceptible as the rest.

"I would never use my daughter as a bribe, Sister," smiled the new mother. "It's not my fault she's so pleasing."

"Humph. So what's the favor?"

"I know that you played an important role in the war, and much of your time was spent driving vehicles near the front," Shelagh began.

"Out with it, little bootlicker!" Sister Evangelina was nothing if not to the point.

Shelagh jumped in. "I was hoping that perhaps you could teach me to drive."

"Drive? A car?"

"Yes, Sister. I thought we could use the van for a few lessons when you are able to step away from your duties."

"Why can't you ask Doctor Turner to teach you? Oh, wait; it's that car of his, isn't it? He's afraid to trust you with the car."

"Partly, I'm afraid. He did agree to lessons, but that was weeks ago. I'm afraid he's not too keen on the idea."

Well, I can't say as I really blame him. I had a motorbike during the war, great big thing. Oh, I loved that bike. Wouldn't let any of the mechanics on base touch it. Couldn't do my job if old Millie wasn't running in top form, and who am I to trust some wet-behind-the-ears private with two months experience? No, sir. The only one who touched that bike was me!" Sister Evangelina tickled baby Angela's feet. "I do love a baby's feet," she sighed. "You said that was part of the reason. Why else won't your husband teach you?"

"I'm afraid I shouldn't tell; the reason would influence you unfairly. Patrick means well." The skills Shelagh used so successfully on her husband were originally honed on Sister Evangelina.

"Doesn't like the idea of a woman driving, that it?" The nun made a fierce face. "In the name of all that is good, I cannot for the life of me understand why that man-it's fear, I tell you! Plain old fear. I'll wager he's afraid that once you learn how to drive a car, there's nothing he'll be in charge of at home!

"Well, if we're going to do this, we're going to do it right. A body has no business operating a motor vehicle if they don't have a basic understanding of how it works. By the time I'm through with you, you'll be able to get a job at the corner garage if you'd like." Lifting Angela into the air, she smiled at the resulting squeal. "We are going to get two birds with one stone, little angel. Teach your mother to drive AND teach your father a lesson."


	3. Chapter 3

Spring had drifted into a pleasant early summer and the favorite breakfast spot for the Turner family was in the newly landscaped back garden. Patrick tucked into his scrambled eggs as Timothy stole the last piece of bacon.

"No, Timothy. Save that for Mum. She hasn't had any yet," Patrick scolded.

"It's all right, Patrick. I'm not having any bacon today. Just tea and toast for me." Shelagh spooned a bit of cereal into baby Angela's mouth, careful to get more in her mouth than on her chin.

Patrick finished his breakfast and pushed back a bit from the table. "Short surgery today, only two hours. Perfect. How about we do something to celebrate?"

"No, thanks, Dad. I've got cricket all day," Timothy informed him.

"Planning to go professional, Tim?" his dad teased.

"You never know, Dad. But a comeback tale of a boy who came back from polio to cricket star couldn't hurt my chances!" They all laughed. "May I be excused, Mum?"

"Yes, dear. Please bring in a few plates as you go in, if you please," Shelagh smiled at him.

"So how about it, sweetheart? A nice day out, just me and my girls?" Patrick reached over, tickling Angela's toes. The baby squealed, spitting out the pureed pears her mother had just fed her.

Shelagh laughed. "Not well pleased with pears, sweet angel? Just wait until we try the peas I prepared for dinner!" She turned to her husband. "Actually, I was thinking that today would be a good day to begin those driving lessons we talked about."

Patrick choked on his tea. "Driving lessons?"

Shelagh's eyes twinkled. Poor Patrick. He looked like a trapped animal. "Oh. I'm sure you remember, dearest. You said you would teach me to drive. Today's perfect, don't you think?" Not giving him time to answer, she continued, "Cynthia can look after Angela, and we could go out to the country. Start out away from busy city streets, don't you think? Oh, Patrick, I am so looking forward to it!" Shelagh beamed up at her husband. "You are so good to agree to teach me."

Poor Patrick knew he had been out-maneuvered. He sighed deeply. "All right, Shelagh. We can go today."

Shelagh got up from the table and moved to her husband. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him gently. "Thank you, dearest. You won't regret it."

Patrick nodded. His face wore the same unconvinced expression as his daughter's.

Shelagh grinned as she considered the day ahead. Lessons with Sister Evangelina had been an excellent idea.

"Use your musician's ear when you're driving. The sounds the car makes are as important as anything. She'll tell you when to shift gears. Just listen for the right note, and you'll be fine," the nun told her. "And your observational skills will show you a great deal as well. Watch the driver whenever you can. You'll soon pick up the rhythms needed."

Now, Shelagh was confident she was going to give Patrick the surprise of his life. She packed a picnic, prepared the children for the day, and went off to meet her husband.

Patrick waited outside his surgery, nervously tapping his fingers on the bonnet of his car. Shelagh couldn't be certain, but from her place across the street, it looked as if he was saying something.

"Poor dear. He's probably reassuring the car. 'Don't worry, old girl. You'll be all right. I won't let anything happen to you. Maybe we'll get lucky and Shelagh will change her mind.'" She chuckled. Patrick would deny it, but he was devoted to that car. His study was a mess, his clothes somehow never seemed to make it into the laundry bin, but his car was always spotless and the oil was changed frequently.

"Hello, Patrick,' she called as she approached him. Patrick turned and gave her a stiff smile.

"Hello, Shelagh. Still up for this?" he asked, hopeful.

"Most certainly, dearest. I cannot wait to try my hand! I stopped off at the market on the way, so we can just stow these things in the boot, if you like."

For the next hour, Shelagh kept up a cheerful chatter, and if Patrick seemed unusually quiet, she pretended not to notice. Brick and stone buildings slowly faded into green fields and low hills. Finally, Patrick pulled to the side of the road.

"May as well try out here," he conceded.

Shelagh had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud at his hangdog expression. She didn't wait for Patrick to open her door as she normally did; rather she eagerly skipped around the bonnet and waited for him to get out of the driver's seat. Settling into her new position, Shelagh was careful not to appear too comfortable.

"You should adjust the seat. I forgot about that,' he muttered, "I'll have to push back every time you drive. Pull up on the handle underneath the seat, and pull the seat up with your legs."

Shelagh seemed to struggle with the mechanism for a moment, and then slid the seat smoothly into position.

"Now take a look at your mirrors. Move them around a bit until you can see properly behind the car. Wait," he cautioned. "The most important thing you must be able to do is know how to stop the car. A car in motion is a dangerous thing. If you can't stop a car, you are bound for trouble." He continued to lecture her on the necessity of good braking skills, which led to the merits of gently using the clutch. Twenty minutes later, Shelagh interrupted, "Patrick, dear, I know this is all dreadfully important. But we only have a few more hours before we need to be back home. Cynthia can't stay forever."

Patrick took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Shelagh looked away, afraid she would not be able to keep this up for long.

"Well, then. First, release the hand brake. Now, step down on the clutch and shift the gear into neutral. Feel the car start to wake to you? All right, turn the key. Yes, that's it." he was speaking very slowly, and Shelagh suspected that perhaps he was unconsciously trying to have her stall the engine. "Now, with the clutch down, slowly put the car into first-Shelagh!" he cried out.

Shelagh had decided this was taking too long. Smoothly, she shifted the car into gear and began to accelerate. Sister Evangelina had been quite proud of how deftly her pupil could get a car moving, and today Shelagh would have impressed her old friend. Patrick sat in the passenger seat, stunned into silence. After a few hundred yards, Shelagh reversed the car neatly, and then came to a stop at the side of the road.

Beaming, she turned to her husband. "How was that, Patrick dearest?"

Patrick was still unable to find any words, his mouth agape. Shelagh knew how to handle that, as well. Sitting up, she slid across the bench seat and kissed her husband. Finally, he found his speech.

"You fraud! How on earth did you learn how to drive?"

"When it became quite clear that you were not a willing teacher, I asked Sister Evangelina to teach me." Shelagh wore a very self-satisfied expression.

"Sister Evangelina? Was it terrifying?" He shuddered.

"No, Patrick. She was most professional. Never once did she assume that because I'm female that I couldn't do this well."

Patrick hung his head. "I suppose I deserve that. You'd think that after all these years working with women I'd have learned that lesson by now."

"Oh, it's not your fault, Patrick. You did grow up a man, after all. That does imply certain limitations to your understanding," Shelagh teased.

Patrick had enough mockery, and put an end to it the best way he knew, steaming up the windows in the process. Coming up for breath he asked, "Shelagh, if you already know how to drive why did you make us drive all the way out here?"

"I packed a picnic. Cynthia is with the children; now we can have a lovely day together."

Patrick tightened his grip on his wife. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," he murmured as he sought out her lovely collarbone.

"Oh, it really is the least I could do, dearest."

"Hmmm?" he asked, not really interested in her response.

"Well, since you are going to let me drive home."

Patrick was a smart man. "Yes, dear."


End file.
